She went into the children’s bedroom and shut the door.
For the next two days, she didn’t speak another word to him. He apologized a dozen or more times, but she looked away as if he weren’t there. In the evening she’d leave a plate of food on the stove for him, but neither she nor any of the kids sat with him to eat.
On Monday, when he was supposed to return to his job in Charleston, he remained at home.
“I might get fired for not showing up today, but I can’t leave here knowing you feel this way,” he said mournfully. “I’ve done sworn I’d give up drinking and apologized every way I know how. What else can I do?”
“You might try telling your son you’re sorry,” she said. “I’m used to your moods and the way you go around blaming the world for every bad thing that happens, but he’s not. He’s a little boy who should be looking up to his daddy instead of being afraid of him. Being upset about work doesn’t give you cause to take your anger out on Dewey.”
Martin lowered his gaze to the floor as she spoke.
“You hurt him more than you hurt me. He’s the one you need to ask for forgiveness.”
Realizing the only way he’d get Eliza’s forgiveness was to first get Dewey’s, Martin talked to the boy before he left for Charleston.
“You gotta believe I didn’t mean you any harm,” he said. “Your mama and I had words; she said some hurtful things, and I lost my temper. I was wrong and I’m real sorry about it, but I’m your daddy and you gotta forgive me. You can do that, can’t you, son?”
Without looking square into father’s face, Dewey nodded.
Martin wrapped his arm around the boy’s narrow shoulders and gave a genuine smile.
“I’m gonna make it up to you, Dewey; you’ll see. Like I told your mama, I’m turning over a new leaf. From here on in, I’m gonna be the kind of daddy you kids deserve. I promise you that. Now let’s go tell your mama. She’s gonna be real happy about you forgiving me. Yessir, real happy.”
The Fragile Forgiveness
AFTER THE INCIDENT WITH DEWEY, it seemed as though Martin truly had changed for the better. At first, Eliza had her doubts. They’d been through this several times before, and while he’d be on his best behavior for a few weeks, sometimes months, he eventually went back to what she’d come to believe was his true nature.
This time was different. This time it felt as though he actually wanted to spend time with the children. He returned to Coal Creek every weekend, and often he brought some little gift for Eliza or one of the children. Although it was a four-mile walk from the train station, he’d come in smiling and calling for the kids. Once they were clustered around him he’d reach into his pocket, pull out a bag of candy, hand it to Eliza, and say, “Look what I brought my best girl.” If it wasn’t candy for her, it was a few marbles or a whittling knife for one of the boys.
Such a drastic change baffled the children at first, and a thin layer of apprehension hid beneath their smiles. This was especially true of the older boys, Oliver and Ben Roland. Wary though they might have been, they knew enough not to let it show. When their daddy called they came, and no matter what little trinket he’d pull from his pocket they’d carry on as if it were the very thing they’d been wishing for.
Dewey was another story. His resentment ran deep as a river. If he spotted Martin nearing the front gate or caught the sound of his voice, he’d head for the woods behind their back yard and be gone for the remainder of the day. Three Saturdays in a row he missed dinner, and the only thing that kept Martin from taking a switch to him was the plaster cast that still covered the boy’s arm. On the few occasions when Martin’s mood turned sour, it was almost always because of Dewey. Twice he tried to talk some sense into the boy but came away angrier than before.
“Talking to him is the same as hollering down a well,” he said. “A waste of time.”
Determined to hold on to this newfound peace at any cost, Eliza massaged the tightness in Martin’s